


The Plan

by Between_A_Dream



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: College AU, Drama, F/F, Romance, Waverly is a planner, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 00:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Between_A_Dream/pseuds/Between_A_Dream
Summary: Waverly Earp has been a planner for most of her life, and nowhere in those plans does it say she can fall for the kindhearted, fiery-haired athlete she’s assigned as her college roommate.Nicole Haught thinks plans are for picnics, not people.WayHaught college AU.





	The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!!! Wow, I’m so excited to finally be posting this story!!! I’ve always wanted to try my hand at a really in depth college AU, and I’m glad that the couple I decided to write it for is WayHaught. This story is definitely going to be long and will involve a decent amount of slow burn, along with some humor, some drama, but there will be some more serious subjects later on that deal with things ranging from depression and anxiety to intrusive thoughts and self harm, and all kinds of things in between. There are mentions of anxiety and panic attacks in this chapter, but aside from that many of these will not be included in any chapters that are going to be coming up in the near future, but eventually it will become relevant to the story. I will of course be labeling every chapter in these notes with trigger warnings and letting you guys know everything that is either directly involved with or mentioned from a previous time in that chapter. Regardless, please read with caution and decide whether or not you’d like to begin this if you feel that any of these things may upset you or stir up negative emotions/memories.
> 
> Now with that said, I hope you guys enjoy this!! It’s really been fun to start writing and I am definitely going to be continuing soon. As always- Reviews, questions/inferences you may have, ideas you would possibly like to see me use, and any constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! Honestly guys, I don’t write just for the purpose of supplying you with reading material, I write because I genuinely enjoy doing it and it’s something that I have become very passionate about in my life. It’s my escape, my solace, my way into a world where anything can happen, and I don’t create simply in search of comments. However, to a writer? Validation of a piece of work can be the most liberating thing in the world, and will always be appreciated by the author. To us, getting a long comment that explains things you liked about the story, or where you express the emotions that the work stirred in you, that to us is like getting presents on your birthday. I read every review I get multiple times and I always respond to them, whether your comment is only a few words saying that you cried the entire time or it’s a three paragraph summary of what you were feeling as you read. I really do love feedback from you guys, it’s all the payment I could ever want for my work. Thanks for reading, please enjoy!

"Waverly?"

The sound of her name barely reached her ears, and the brunette simply shrugged it off, rolling over in her sleep.

"Waverlyyy?”

This time it was louder and longer, but she refused to open her eyes yet, praying to catch just a few more moments of sleep.

"Waverly, I swear to god. I’m not kidding about this, I WILL drive us home if you aren't up in ten seconds. I’m counting.”

Now she was awake enough to recognize the voice, but she still had no idea why her sister was forcing her awake. Wynonna didn't wake up before her, not ever.

"10... 9... 8..."

Why was she so uncomfortable? And why the hell was her older sister counting down? Drive them home? Where were they?

"7... 6... 5..."

It was only then that it dawned on Waverly that she was sitting in a car. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed before, because now the strap of her seat belt digging uncomfortably into her skin was painfully obvious. She winced as she tried to move but her neck was tilted in an odd, strained way and her head was leaning against the window. Okay. So she was in a car, struggling to open her eyes and rouse herself from sleep, and Wynonna was counting down the seconds before she drove away from... Somewhere. Where would they be that was so important as to wake her up?

"4... 3... 2..."

And then it hit her.

“Okay! I’m up, I’m up!” she cried, her eyes flying open as she sat straight up in her seat, her head aching slightly from the rapid motion and her vision still blurry. She looked around frantically with wide eyes, which quickly landed on the grinning woman in the driver’s seat.

"Good thing- Another second and you woulda missed your whole college career," Wynonna chuckled, but the shorter brunette ignored her, squinting until her frame of sight was clear and she could see properly. She snapped her head to the side and looked out the window at the looming building in front of her, unable to keep a smile off her face as she took the view in. The University Of British Colombia. It seemed bigger than it had on her computer screen, now that she here in person.The paths through the campus were paved with stone, and there were trees looming over them protectively. The sun was low in the sky, only a few hours away from setting, and it cast a honey-colored glow over the surface of the ground. Waverly knew the sight before her well- She'd spent dozens of hours online walking herself through virtual tours through the campus, and she smiled at the flutter of excitement in her chest. She was here.

After all the countless hours spent locked away in her bedroom studying. After all the parties she had skipped out on because she didn’t want to risk being unprepared for a test. After all the relationships she had been careful not to get into because she couldn’t let herself be distracted. After all the hours of lost sleep, all the color-coded notes and self-made study guides, all the used up notebooks filled on each and every page with as much information that could fit, and all the careful observations of her plan night after night to _ensure_  that she was on track- She was _finally_  here.

But, as that realization hit her that yes, _yes_ , she was finally at university, it also stirred up a wave of anxiety and her stomach twisted into a knot. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that she was ready for college, ready for adulthood, ready to take on the world, nothing seemed to keep away the nauseating feeling that made her legitimately question if she might black out at any moment.

Waverly had never considered herself as reserved or easily intimidated- Especially not when it came to school, knowledge, or information. She was always the one who knew the answers to teacher’s questions in school, and every new year they would all eventually learn not to ask questions in class that were open to the public if they wanted anyone but her to answer. It wasn’t that she was a teacher’s pet, and she didn’t usually attempt to answer with an excited raise of her hand and a giddy smile on her face like she had seen some of the other people in her classes do to show off. She had tended to avoid those people in favor of her real friends, who appreciated her for Waverly, not for her brain. She wasn’t really ever nervous or anything of the likes around those friends either.

But, when it came to sitting in front of the university she’d dreamed of attending since childhood, it dawned on her that even in the moments where they weren’t communication or in the same room together, the source of most of the confidence she had was Wynonna. Knowing that her big sister always was there to catch her if she slipped and fell, and also oddly enough getting the opportunity to be the strong one and help her sister through a rough time, it gave her a sense of connection to someone else, and that made being confident easy because if someone didn’t like her, at least she still had the older of the Earp siblings by her side.

If Waverly didn’t know better and couldn’t prove scientifically, mathematically, and practically that Wynonna really was just another person like her, she would have believed without hesitation that her sister was the embodiment of a support system built into the form of a human, and given to her as a secret gift as a reward from the universe. No matter what it was that she had to face in her life, the reason she could do it with such confidence was because of the plan, and because of Wynonna always being there by her side.

She could still remember the day when an elementary-school aged Champ Hardy had decided that he was ruler of the playground, and soon had everyone in the third grade willingly under his rule as servants. That day he had decided kindergartners weren’t allowed on _his_  slide, and had pushed Waverly off the top when she tried to use it. Her lip had split open, her head had hit the concrete pavement, and she had somehow ended up with a dislocated left wrist that required surgery at the age of 5, and afterwards she was forced to wear a brace for upwards of of two and a half months.

Champ had never apologized, but Wynonna had tracked him down later after school that day and picked him up by the collar before pinning him against the wall of a nearby building. She’d said she was so ready to hit him, so ready to kick him between the legs as hard as she could, but she’d stopped herself because she had to remember he was a kid and she could get in trouble for hurting him. So instead, she slapped him once, dropped him on the sidewalk, told him if he ever touched Waverly again that she wouldn’t take into consideration that he was just kid, then made him run away with fear evident in his wide eyes.

Honestly, despite how terrifying it was to think about it, the younger Earp sister was actually scared for herself, scared that she had grown dependent on Wynonna, scared that without her sister there as a constant, steady aspect in her life she would slowly fall apart without even realizing it until it was too late to stop herself from driving herself mad.

“Are you ready baby girl?” the darker haired brunette looked over at her sister with a cocked eyebrow, placing a hand on her knee in comfort. With a nod and an anxious smile, Waverly squeezed tightly to the older woman’s hand beside her.

“Totally,” she tried her best to sound confident, but it was clear that her voice wavered a bit. Not one to let it slip by, the older of the two offered a reassuring smile and her blue eyes met with her sister’s darker hazel ones. If anyone knew how her sister truly felt about college and being on her own, it was Wynonna. She’d watched the smaller woman next to her grow up from a baby that fit in two of her hands into a stunning and incredibly intelligent woman about to begin a journey that would help her carve the path she wanted to travel for the rest of her life.

“Waves, this is gonna be great. You’ve worked your ass off to get here. This has been your dream since you were old enough to know what a dream was. You even got yourself a full scholarship, and if anyone deserves it it’s you. This is the biggest moment of your life,” her words were sincere and meaningful, and it was clear that Waverly appreciated it. She nodded and threw her arms around the older woman tightly. The hug was reciprocated, but it wasn’t long before a teasing grin took over Wynonna’s lips once more. “Besides, maybe you’ll get yourself some cute guy as a study partner,” she winked and chuckled as her younger sister’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“You know there’s no room in the plan for a relationship,” Waverly pointed out, and Wynonna rolled her eyes with an amused shake of her head. She should’ve known after wishing on the shooting star she’d seen two nights prior that her sister would at least let loose and deviate just a little bit from her “plan” in college had been too much to ask, but she couldn’t help it anyway. She wasn’t exactly secretive on her opinions about the plan anyway, so the fact that Waverly had caught her doing it hadn’t phased her and still didn’t. She knew even if wishes were real and shooting stars somehow had the power to grant them that her wish would be too impossible to make happen. The younger brunette _lived_  by that plan, let it dictate the entire course of life she had decided to take. Everything- From target GPA to designated study time at night to how much sleep was necessary for her to function properly the next day- It was all listed in her plan.

Of course, there was no physical copy of the plan, other than sketched out diagrams that were used for the sole purpose of explaining things that were ever unclear to anyone who had questions about it. But no, mostly it was just sculpted into Waverly’s mind, all the things she had to do to get her where she wanted to go in life, and all the things she had to avoid involving herself with because it presented an interference with something in the plan.

Relationships were the biggest one. Despite Wynonna’s constant warning and serious confusion as to why someone like her sister would ever date a man child who was no more mature as an adult than he had been when he pushed her off the slide, he was the first boy who had asked her out before and she didn’t want to risk not ever getting a chance to be with someone.

And for awhile, she had tried to like Champ, tried to let herself be okay with his snarky comments about friends of hers and did her best to convince herself that kissing him was enjoyable. She tried to act like she didn’t know he was sleeping with other girls he knew behind her back, and she really wanted to like his massive truck, with wheels high enough that there was a clear window of space between the frame of the car and the ground.

But eventually, it finally became as obvious to Waverly as it had been to her sister all along, and if it wasn’t just a sudden realization then on that day her subconscious had decided to hit her with a ridiculously clear picture of what she was trying to lower herself to, because in all honesty she couldn’t stand it when she had to listen to someone who supposedly liked her talk trash on her closest friends, and when they kissed it felt like she was just pushing her lips up against what she could only describe as the texture of a warm snail. She’d found a bra in his bedroom once that she knew belonged to Amy Nicely because she’d seen it in the locker-room’s before gym class and her initials were stitched into the side with black thread, and she didn’t know why she had tried to let herself believe that anything else had happened that would lead to her leaving a bra in his bedroom.

And his truck? The beaten down, rusted piece of disgusting metal that somehow still had four wheels attached and by some miracle could still run that Champ referred to as his pick up truck? Every time she had to climb inside it provided a challenge, because she was exactly 5ft tall and with the added wheels for embellishment the door to the truck was 12 feet in the air, which meant she had to grasp onto the foot rest with her hands and hoist herself up into the door every time they rode it, a task that usually took at least a minute or two and every time annoyed him because of how much time she was taking. Not to mention it hadn’t been cleaned out inside when he bought it for less than $1,000 from a local drunk, and no effort was ever made after the purchase to even attempt to make the inside smell less like gasoline and three day old gas station tacos. She found that once she could see Champ for who he really was, she wanted to burn it from the inside out, let the entire thing blaze until it was nothing more than rust and a pile of ashes.

But, she supposed that despite the disgust she now felt towards him, he did help her in a way, because he made it much easier not to crave being in a relationship if that’s what it was like. And Wynonna did her best to insist that many relationships weren’t like that, and just because she had picked the worst possible suitor she could have ever asked for as the one to experiment what dating was like didn’t mean that she couldn’t find someone who would actually treat her well with the respect she deserved. But a Waverly was just as stubborn as her sister, learned only by the many examples she was exposed to as they were growing up, and insisted that she didn’t need a relationship in her life to be happy.

She’d also explained that in college it would be even worse to begin a new relationship, because if she actually turned out falling for someone at university and wanting to really be in a commitment together, it would only make it that much harder to spend as much time as she needs to on school and her future rather than with friends or a potential boyfriend.

“You and that plan of yours. Loosen up a bit baby girl. This is _college_. You’ve already accomplished more than anyone else in our entire family. You got yourself here, now it’s time to live, just a little,” her words were nothing that was unfamiliar, and Waverly just shook her head.

“That “plan” _got_  me here Wynonna. It’s what gets me everywhere. That’s why I have my scholarship. That’s why I had such a high test score. That’s why I am who I am today. It’s a part of me,” with that and a firm shake of her head, Waverly jumped out of the front seat and walked around to the back of the pickup truck, where her bags were currently being stored. “Well? Are you gonna help or what?” she called, already struggling to pull a large bag out from within the pile. Wynonna sighed, shook her head, and followed her sister to the back with an unpleasant scowl on her face. All she could do was hope that while she was here, something- Or someone- Would be able to help Waverly see who she was beyond that damned plan.

* * *

_Keyboard and guitar? Check._

_Clothes? Check._

_Computer? Check._

_Lucky aluminum bat from tenth grade? Check._

Nicole nodded to herself and zipped her bag shut, then lifted it out of the trunk of her car and inhaled sharply. The multitude of six story buildings of the university towered over her immensely, and she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit intimidated.

“Dammit Haught, you can do this,” she scolded herself, firmly shutting the trunk of her Volvo S90 Sedan and shaking her head to clear it. There was no reason to be nervous. After all, the reason she was even attending the University of British Colombia was because of her essay on the importance of feminism. She hadn’t even been trying to get a scholarship, just pass her AP English class with a decent enough grade to avoid a confrontation from her parents.

And when her teacher had read the essay and called her into a private meeting to discuss it, she’d originally worried that she had been too forward in her writing, too over the top in her criticism of modern society’s backlash against equality movements. The athlete had feared that she would either be told to redo it unless she wanted her grade to suffer or be forced to schedule a meeting with the school guidance councilor to discuss some of the issues she had included.

Instead, she was met with a pleasant surprise when her teacher brought her to her classroom that had been occupied by the other three English teachers in the building. They had welcomed her to sit with them, then proceeded to explain that in their opinion her essay was an example of an exemplary writing style that- If reused and tweaked only slightly in an application for a high-paying scholarship they were aware of- Could win her a serious sum of money, enough that if she chose her school options wisely could provide payment for nearly 85% of her tuition.

Before that moment, the young athlete hadn’t even planned on going to college, let alone entering an essay contest to win an exceptionally inexpensive ride there. And she certainly hadn’t expected to win the entire competition, especially when she learned only after the fact that her competition had been over 7,000 other applicants from high-performing English students around the country.

If she were being perfectly honest, she hadn’t had any plans for the future, and she still wasn’t sure if she did. Nicole always hated planning for things, because it set expectations that in her experience were never met. She much more preferred to go with the flow, to let whatever happened next guide her decisions and make most of her choices based on what was currently best for her.

No one in her family had gone to college in four generations aside from her older sister Hayley, who had attended their local community college because it was all she could afford to earn a degree in business. As much as she enjoyed the professional aspect of the business world she also was equally passionate about creative expression and art, so she decided to pursue a career in marketing and advertisement. She was currently in one of the highest positions in the company as a marketing executive, and she had been thrilled when she learned of her sister’s scholarship award.

Hayley had been the one who helped her scan the internet for colleges she would possibly show an interest in. She was the one who prepared her for what general college life was like. She was the one who had given her advice and useful tips for filling out her applications, who had helped her learn and practice management of her own free time, who told her what essentials to bring and what unnecessary possessions to leave behind, who couldn’t be there in person but had stayed on the phone the entire time when she finally opened her letter from UBC that would either confirm her acceptance or deny it. Hayley was Nicole’s support system, the one person she could confide in who she knew wouldn’t react with judgement and try to dismiss her thoughts all together.

And of course, as had been expected, she’d received entire monologues of backlash and a list of reasons why she shouldn’t attend from her parents. Anything they could think of they threw at her, from not having anyone nearby to help her in case she needed something to not being qualified enough in anything but sports. Luckily, however, Hayley had stepped in and defended her decision to go, arguing that she had worked hard to give herself a chance at college and therefore deserved to take it. It was clear they were anything but happy about it, and though they never showed any support or encouragement towards it, at least they eventually quit trying to stop her.

She turned to take a few moments and just observe everything in front of her. Suddenly, now that she was standing up close and in front of the massive array of buildings and dorms that made up the university, Nicole was almost beginning to regret her decision. She’d skated in hockey stadiums the size of airplanes, dribbled across basketball courts with risers as high as a two story building, and played on a softball field that was in the middle of an actual field that stretched on for at least 15 acres, but _never_  before had she been so intimidated by the size of something, been in a situation the space she took up seemed truly insignificant.

Yet, despite this, here she was- Feeling like an aunt looking up a Himalayan summit as what looked to be no smaller than skyscrapers loomed over her. Nicole had always felt confident in calling herself tall- At 5ft 8 (172.2 cm to be exact) she was above the median, and likely well into the 20th percentile of height in women on average- But as she stared upwards at the tops of the building she felt like she would fall backwards if she stayed in her position much longer. Looking out at the sight in front of her and seeing all the students mindlessly walking through the campus like it was their job made it hard to breathe, and suddenly when she took in a breath, all she could do was let out a mixture of something somewhere between a squeak and a wheeze.

Her chest began to ache at the sound like it was straining under the pressure and weight of a cinder block. The harder she tried to inhale the tighter her chest became, and soon she found herself trapped in a repetitive loop, her body simply no longer able to properly take in oxygen. Her head started spinning at the lack of air and her vision began to tunnel, so she was forced down onto the pavement beside the car with trembling knees, eventually managing to let herself collapse into a sitting position and leaning against the back of her Sedan.

Gasping and reaching as quickly as she could manage into the inside pocket of her coat, her quivering hands pulled out a small, familiar tube that she checked the number of remaining available puffs left inside on before bothering to use it. Fumbling with the cover of the inhaler as she frantically tried to avoid passing out from a lack of oxygen, she lifted it the second the blue cap was removed and lifted it quickly to her lips. She began breathing in slowly as she pressed down on, holding it at her mouth until she was sure enough time had passed for her to completely inhale the gas inside. Closing her eyes just for the possibility of avoiding seeing anyone that may have been staring at her, she began under her breath to count backwards from 12 in French.

It was technique Hayley had taught her when she was younger and her asthma attacks were much more frequent. She had chosen 12 because it was always Nicole’s number in every sport she played, and she considered it to be lucky for her. Once she had counted down to 0, she then waited 15 seconds before using the inhaler again, just as an extra added measure of precaution to ensure that she remained in control of her breathing. She’d learned the hard way once that one puff wasn’t always enough to stop it completely. Once had been more than enough for her, so she had practiced using two on every occasion from then on. She gave herself a minute to recollect her train of thought as she sat there, and reopened her eyes but avoided looking directly at any specific object so as to allow her eyesight to readjust in its own time.

She’d always hoped that she would outgrow her asthma, but she’d been diagnosed as a kid and it had stuck with her ever since. What had made it worse was that she also struggled with anxiety as a kid, and on more than one occasion the stress and loss of breath from panic attack had lead to an overlapping asthma attack at the same time, as well as the other way around.

Both had certainly improved over the years, especially with the limits she pushed herself to in sports, and though Nicole still did experience moments of anxiety, she had greatly improved in her social skills through her friendships on her sports teams. Around her teammates, and eventually around anyone she cared to give a good impression, she could pass herself off as comfortable, maybe even as somewhat confident, though lots of the time all she could think to herself was how terrifying it would be to say something stupid or mess up the pronunciation of a simple word.

She knew she made herself endure more than she could handle during athletic activities, but it was just in her nature to do so. She took on challenges and usually ended up making them harder than they had to be, because that was how she had been raised. Growing up with parents who had never accepted her sexuality or her interests and passions that weren’t traditionally feminine, she’d learned from a young age to bear more weight than most other kids in her position could.

In high school, she was good enough at basketball and hockey to play for the boy’s team, and her involvement was surprisingly well received by most of the team and the school. Of course there were assholes like Joey Parker who was always doubtful of her ability and making jokes about how she’d be more suited for cheerleading, but keeping a level head was one of Nicole’s specialties and all she’d had to do to shut him up was to prove that she was better than him on the ice. Which she did, with no problem.

She’d come to find that she enjoyed the company of her teammates, even if they were men, but because she felt like she really was one of their friends. The guys didn’t judge her for wearing nothing but jeans, T-shirt’s, and her lettermen’s jacket. They didn’t bother her when she spent extra hours at the gym in the evenings to improve her resistance and strength. They didn’t mock her or find it weird when she found a girl attractive, and they it wasn’t just because they wanted to see her kissing another woman. She’d become part of something where censoring herself for who she was wasn’t required.

She’d been offered a spot on the baseball team as well, but despite her relationship with the guys on her other teams, Nicole actually preferred softball. Not only was she actually able to be surrounded by other female athletes, which she did enjoy more (Not because of her sexuality, simply because despite her friendships with the guys on her other teams she still had more in common with female athletes than with male athletes) but she also found it more challenging, which meant that it was more exciting in her opinion. She’d played the catcher’s position proudly for 9 years through the school team, ever since elementary when she was in the minors, and she hoped to continue at least one of her athletic careers in college.

It was through these sports teams that Nicole had developed some of the only real bonds she’d ever experienced before in her life. Often times she would dread having to leave practice and return home to her parents, because normally they were either fighting with each other over something ridiculous or they were ignoring each other entirely, but both resulted in the center of attention being on them and never anybody else. Whenever she felt she could get away with it, she would tell her parents that practice was going to run much later than it actually was, and she would stay late after it had finished to avoid going home for just a few extra hours.

Usually during that time- Depending on which sport it was that she was staying after- She would put in even more energy and effort than she had at practice. If it was hockey, she would time herself with a stopwatch repeatedly to try and top her personal speed record of a lap around the ice. For basketball, she would run up and down the court for hours with a ball in hand and set up different obstacles as she progressed to try and fine-tune her dribbling technique. If it was softball, she would activate an automatic machine to pitch balls for her and work on her swing and stance, and sometimes when it was light enough outside she would record herself in slow motion so she could analyze what she was doing and fix any mistakes she found.

But, on occasion, she would stay after practice and she would just walk around the tracks for their track and field team, or she would make sure nobody else was around, then go out onto the football field with the lights all turned on, and she would just lay in the middle on the grass.

It was in these moments more than any others that Nicole found herself just able to think, to clear out any irrational ideas brought up by her anxiety and just be, without having to worry about who she was going to have to be when high school ended. As much as she disliked those four years of her life, she’d been terrified of college- Of growing up in general really. She told herself it was because she had to move away from all her friends that she’d come to care a lot for, but she knew deep in the layers of her mind it was much more than that. It wasn’t simply that she didn’t know who she wanted to be, it was that she had no clue who she was in the first place.

Outside of high school activities and two shitty excuses for parents, she didn’t know anything about herself. She played sports, she was gay, and she liked writing and music. That was all she could really definitively say in regards to what she knew about herself, and going to college meant that she either had to discover herself there or risk spending the rest of her life trying to decide what she even would want to consider as a career.

The ginger athlete done research on the statistics of the sports teams at UBC, and both basketball and hockey were exceptionally good teams. Their softball team however was definitely less impressive, with one of the lowest records of all sports at the school. Not that she wouldn’t try out for all three, but Nicole was confident in her ability to make the softball teams, and was eager to hopefully offer some advice to improve their stats. She was hoping that even if she only made one of the teams that she would at least get the chance to work on feeling more comfortable in such an unfamiliar environment.

Noticing that her head was clearing and that her vision had returned to normal, Nicole stood and tucked her inhaler away on the inside pocket of her jacket, then grabbed her bags and took a final moment for herself to absorb everything she was looking out at. After looking at them for awhile, the buildings no longer seemed to be staring down harshly at the ginger, rather standing in place as looming gates, open to a world of possibility. The air slowly felt less like it was trying to suffocate her and more like it was motivating her, and even her bags felt lighter in her arms. The walk towards the admissions building was easier than she thought it would be.

* * *

“Man, I think that’s everything baby girl,” Wynonna looked out approvingly over mess of bags spread out across one of the two beds inside Waverly’s dorm room, giving herself a satisfied nod.

“It is, I checked twice,” the older woman couldn’t help but scoff in amusement at her sister’s antics. Why on _earth_ would she have expected anything different?

“Well, if it _is_  everything, then I’d better be going soon,” Wynonna admitted with a sigh, and she frowned as the brunette across the room pouted.

“Can’t you stay a little bit longer? Just... Just at least till I meet my roommate?” Waverly’s bottom lip poked out ever so slightly and the older of the two groaned in defeat as she slumped onto the only available space on the bed closest two her. Waverly grinned and pecked her cheek lovingly, opening one of her suitcases to start unpacking. Even though she would never admit it, Wynonna would have likely stayed even if it wasn’t asked of her, for a variety of reasons, the first of which being simply curiosity as to who her sister would be sharing a room with for at the very least an entire school year.

Not only that, but she also had to make sure she approved and didn’t receive any bad vibes from said roommate, because Waverly was her sister and if something was wrong with her living companion she was going to know about it. And finally, she knew how nervous the shorter brunette was about roommates, simply because she couldn’t plan for it. Despite how much she hated that god awful plan Waverly followed day by day, she knew how much her sister depended on it, and when something was out of her hands and up to fate she knew it wasn’t easy on the younger woman. She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle however, when she looked over to see Waverly folding and re-folding the same shirt over and coed again.

“Waves, I know you’re anxious and all, and you have to do something when you’re fidgety, but don’t you think you should wait to unpack until she gets here and _then_  you can make living arrangements?” she asked as she cocked an eyebrow, and with a flush of embarrassment Waverly dropped the shirt and zipped her suitcase back up.

“Right, I guess you’re right,” she mumbled, sitting with her legs folded neatly in front of her and her hands placed in her lap. It was painfully obvious that sitting still wasn’t easy for her, so Wynonna reached out and squeezed one of Waverly’s hands gently, receiving a grateful look in return.

The sound of the door unlocking and the knob turning startled both Earp sisters out of their thoughts and their heads snapped towards the entrance to the dorm, where suddenly a tall, red haired girl was standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hi, you must be Waverly Earp, right?” she glanced down at a paper in her hands then up at the sisters, a bit of confusion in her eyes as she looked between the two, and it was only when she felt a nudge in her back that Waverly realized she had yet to speak up and clarify who was who.

“Oh! Right, yes, that’s me! I’m Waverly. And uh, this is my sister Wynonna,” she introduced quickly, stumbling over her words as she spoke. Wynonna offered up a half wave and Nicole smiled at the pair, making her way into the dorm carefully so as not to get any of her bags caught on the handle. She set her things down on the bed that wasn’t currently occupied by a mountain of bags and held out her hand towards the shorter brunette, her dimples clearly showing through her smile.

“Nicole Haught, nice to meet you,” she introduced herself as they shook hands.

“Nice to meet you too,” Waverly echoed her response. She watched as Nicole took in the sight of the room in front of her. If she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. “Uh, do you care which side of the room you use?” the younger Earp asked quickly, her hands fidgeting together in front of her.

“What?” Nicole seemed surprised by the question. “Oh! You mean- Oh no, I don’t care either way. You seem to like the left side, so if you want that it’s yours. But if you wanna switch that’s totally cool as well,” the ginger explained with a laugh.

“No, left is good,” Waverly was unsure of what to follow the conversation with, so she simply rocked back and forth awkwardly on her heels for a few moments. Nicole blushed as she too realized she could think of nothing else to say, and luckily for both Wynonna stepped in to interrupt the silence.

“Well, it was cool meeting you Nicole, but I really do have to head home,” she announced, standing up off the bed and wrapping an arm around Waverly’s shoulder. She could see the nerves radiating off her younger sister and she hugged her close, pressing a kiss against her temple. “You’re gonna do great, okay? If you need me I’m just a phone call away,” she promised.

“A phone call and a 6 hour drive,” Waverly sighed, keeping her arms secured tightly around her sister’s waist for as long as she could. When the two pulled apart, she watched the older woman leave, not daring to move her eyes away until Wynonna was completely out of sight. Even after she was gone, Waverly remained in place, her gaze fixated on the door.

* * *

It wasn’t until nearly 7:00 in the evening when Nicole returned to her dorm to see that Waverly’s side of the room had been completely transformed. She’d been out exploring the campus and the city, deciding that if she was going to spend the next four years of her life living somewhere she might as well see if she even liked the place.

When she stepped inside, her new roommate was laying on her stomach, headphones in her ears and an aged novel in her hands. The walls above Waverly’s bed were now decorated in fairy lights, with strings of photos depicting landscapes and various plant life hung between the strands. Her bed was covered by a blue comforter that had pictures of waves over it to appear like the ocean. Not wanting to startle her, Nicole approached quietly from behind, placing a gentle hand on the brunette’s shoulder.

The smaller woman jumped at the sensation, ripping her earbuds out and looking up at her roommate in panic, only calming down when she recognized the face in front of her.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to let you know I was here,” Nicole apologized quickly, holding her hands up in defense. Waverly clutched at her chest and let out a loud, shaky breath before answering.

“No no, you’re fine, you just startled me is all. Did you uh, did you enjoy touring the area?” she asked, doing her best to collect her thoughts and return to a steady rhythm of breath.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place. Nice campus too,” Nicole answered with a laugh and a grin, jumping up onto her own bed and simultaneously knocking down one of the bags on the end. She made no move to pick it up and instead reached for a maroon colored hoodie out of a separate bag, pulling it over her head and readjusting her hair once it was on. Waverly wasn’t surprised to see a softball logo on the front, with Nicole’s last name in white letters on the back. Her new roommate definitely had the physical stature of an athlete.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” the auburn haired girl complimented as she admired the decoration on the wall.

“Oh, thanks, it was just some basic stuff,” Waverly explained with a dismissive shrug.

“Still though, you make basic look good,” Nicole grinned, then immediately her face went pale. “N-Not that you look basic! Or that you’re basic, I just meant- Oh god, that was stupid of me to say,” she apologized quickly, seemingly much more anxious than she had been just a moment before. It was the brunette girl’s turn to laugh a little, and she offered a reassuring smile as an acknowledgement. Cheeks still warm and head still buzzing with embarrassment, Nicole silently reached down towards one of her bags and pulled out some of her belongings, while Waverly returned to her reading.

Neither were sure how much time had really passed before the silence that had settled over the room was broken, but the sound of Waverly’s ringtone startled both of them, and they shared a mutually shy laugh as the shorter woman reached for her phone.

“Hey Wynonna, back home?” she asked into the phone as she held it to her ear.

“Yup, back and already prepared to drive back out! It feels weird being here alone,” the older of the two answered, emitting a small laugh from her sister.

“I can imagine. But hey, you can probably come visit in a few weeks when I get a bit more settled in?” Waverly suggested hopefully, wondering if she actually sounded as desperate as she thought she did.

“I’m sure I will at some point, but I want to let you find your own way out there too Waves. I want you to experience what I never did. Don’t let that damn plan of yours dictate your entire college career, please? For me?” Wynonna’s tone was more serious than usual, and a few moments of silence passed between the two.

“I’ll try,” it was all Waverly could promise at the time, but even at that it was a weak attempt to even pretend like she would ever deviate from her plans. She received a defeated sigh in response, but the topic seemed to be dropped for the moment.

“Alright, well I just wanted to call and let you know I got home safe. Let me know how things go tomorrow?” Wynonna asked after a moment.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a full status report,” Waverly tried her luck with a small attempt at humor, relieved at the slight chuckle she heard over the phone line. “Don’t worry Nona, everything’s going to go just according to the plan, and it’ll be great. I guarantee it.”

“Tell me not to worry all you want, I’m always going to. You’re my baby sister, and that means you’re officially under my worry list,” the bartender’s voice lacked it’s usually teasing undertone, and she paused for a moment before continuing. “Well I’ll let you go, Gus is coming over for dinner and she’s bringing whiskey, so we can talk tomorrow okay? I love you Waves.”

“Sounds good. Love you Wynonna,” Waverly didn’t wait for another response before hanging up and tucking her phone into her back pocket. She returned her attention to her book, but it was quickly diverted across the room when she felt eyes on her and turned to see her roommate looking at her curiously.

“What?” suddenly self-conscious at the way Nicole was staring, she felt her cheeks begin to burn and her lips turned down into a nervous grimace.

“Uh, nothing really, just... Something you said about... Something like ‘according to the plan’? What’s the plan?” the ginger woman couldn’t hide her intrigue. “I wasn’t eavesdropping I swear!” she added quickly, suddenly seeming to worry that her roommate may have thought otherwise. “I just overheard, and it kinda struck me as interesting.”

“Interesting? I... It’s not really that interesting, it’s just that I have a lot of plans for college and I intend to stick to them,” the brunette explained with an awkward cough. She heard a small laugh from the other side of the dorm and immediately seemed taken aback, but Nicole was quick to explain herself.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” she reassured the brunette, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s just, I’ve never been big on having a plan for anything in my life. Didn’t even intend on attending college until I got a scholarship to come here,” she shrugged with a laugh.

“You didn’t?” Waverly looked like she didn’t understand what Nicole had just said.

“Nope. Plans are for picnics, not for people,” the ginger athlete grinned, dimples on full display.

“Oh, well... Plans are kinda my thing. I’m a planner. Have been my whole life. I map out everything in my life,” Waverly explained sheepishly, feeling heat creep up her neck.

“Your whole _life_? How can you plan out your whole life when you don’t even know what’s gonna happen?” Nicole asked, opening one of her bags and pulling out a pile of old sport sweatshirts. “The future is full of so many endless possibilities, with thousands of branching paths connected to each and every one. There’s no way to ever know what’s coming next. You gotta live a little!” she threw a grin and a brief wink towards the brunette, who immediately looked down to avoid eye contact.

“W-Well, that’s what the plan is for. So I _will_  know what’s going to happen. Always,” Waverly’s stomach churned uncomfortably as she spoke, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. After all, she was trying to explain her plan to someone she didn’t even know. Who was a complete stranger to tell her how to live her life anyway? It wasn’t like this upbeat redhead even knew anything about her. But, what did she expect from an athlete anyway? She’d seen enough mindless jocks in her high school days to know their type, and she was likely kidding herself if she thought her roommate would be any different just because she was a girl. The female athletes in Purgatory High were sometimes worse than the males. From what she’d seen so far, she would have no trouble believing the only reason Nicole was in Calgary was because of an athletic scholarship.

_Wow, jump to conclusions much?_

Even in her own head she instantly regretted her thoughts and she tried to clear her mind quickly. It wasn’t that she was trying to be rude towards Nicole, and even if she hadn’t said anything out loud there was guilt weighing in her chest.

“I mean hell, I’m here because I wrote an essay and I got almost a full scholarship. I wasn’t even trying to win, it was just an assignment for class! Then my teacher suggested I submit it so I just went along with it because I didn’t expect anything to happen. I was at hockey practice after school, and then about halfway in my teacher came running in saying that my essay had won! My essay, that was literally just about _feminism_ , got me 85% off tuition. And I didn’t plan for any of that!” Nicole explained with a chuckle, still seemingly in slight disbelief about the whole thing.

Waverly could feel embarrassment burning in her chest for not previously believing her roommate to be smart enough to get into the school without an athletic scholarship. And it wasn’t that she was trying to be rude or pushy about it- It was simply that her plan had been the one constant in the smaller woman’s life for so long, and having to explain that to someone who couldn’t understand what it meant to her simply made her feel like she needed to defend it.

Not to mention it didn’t seem like they were exactly a match made in roommate heaven, because from what Waverly had seen so far this fiery haired, go-with-the-flow, scholarship-winning athlete was definitely a fun and energetic person to be around, but neither of those things were thing that would get her a marine biology degree and eventually a job as a shark research specialist. Not to mention, they didn’t seem to share many of the same opinions on many things. Her roommate seemed to be able to read her mind, or at least her facial expressions, because she continued quickly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to judge, if that’s what you think! That’s not what I was trying to say at all, I just don’t think I could ever live having every next second of my life already charted. No way,” the red head laughed, shrugging as she began hanging up her clothes in the closet by her bed. “But really, I’m uh... I’m not trying to be a dick, if it seems at all like I am,” she let out a slightly nervous laugh and ran a hand through her fiery mess of auburn curls. “If you like planning things, then I think that’s great for you. You know what you want, and you know how you want to get it. My life certainly isn’t that organized, and it’s cool that you can think so clearly about what the future has planned ahead.”

Waverly couldn't come up with any sort of response, so instead she nodded and the corners of her lips turned up in a small smile as a gesture of acknowledgement. She hesitated for a moment, greenish-hazel irises locked onto pools of golden brown, holding an unspoken conversation in their gaze. Waverly was the first to break away and she quickly turned her attention back to her book, hoping it would send the message that she didn’t really feel like talking much more at the moment. Nicole’s eyes lingered a moment longer than her roommate, observing and doing their best to properly portray her brain the correct image. Forcing herself to look away and turn her attention towards her bag of possesions, Nicole looked up at her wall and started mentally planning out what it was going to look like.

* * *

“So do you have a major picked yet?” the voice snapped Waverly out of her thoughts and she turned to see her roommate lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with her arms behind her head. “Well I mean, that’s probably a stupid question, someone like you _obviously_  has a major picked if you’ve planned out everything else the way you have,” Nicole’s side of the room had now been decorated in posters and pictures of hockey, basketball, and softball, and a gorgeous blue guitar sat in the corner on a stand, an 88 key keyboard leaning against the wall beside it.

Her comforter was a myriad of blended colors, soft pastels of green, blue, violet, and white mixed together in cloudy patterns across the cover. The brunette chanced a look at the clock to see that almost half an hour had passed since she’s resumed with her reading, but it only felt like a few moments had gone by since Nicole’s return to the dorm. It was only then that the youngest Earp sibling remembered she hadn’t yet answered the question that was asked of her and her roommate was looking at her expectantly, but patiently, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh... Yeah. I um... Well I wanna go into marine biology,” Waverly explained after a moment, watching as the athlete nodded with intrigue.

“Oh that’s cool, my great uncle was a marine biologist,” Nicole was still on her back and staring upwards, and her responses were almost absentminded.

“What about you?”

“Me?” the ginger athlete seemed surprised, both at the question itself and that Waverly had asked. Waverly nodded and she paused for a few moments, biting down on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I think I want to go into criminology, and then maybe move onto the police academy afterwards. And I may try and get a minor in creative writing, but that’s just an idea,” truly, _both_  those things were just ideas. Ones she’d thought of only mere seconds ago to avoid looking any more ridiculous in front of the brunette girl across the room than she already did.

“Think you’d be a good police officer?” Waverly asked, one eyebrow raised slightly above the other and her gaze almost doubtful. Nicole didn’t blame her. If there was one thing she didn’t look like, it was a cop.

“I dunno, I guess that’s what we find out when I take the classes,” the ginger girl laughed with a shrug, not having enough information about the personal qualifications she may or may not have had to make that call. She didn’t know the first thing about being in law enforcement, let alone if she would even enjoy it, but she made her bed and now she was going to have to lie in it, otherwise she would look like an absolute idiot, more-so than she’d already managed to do. But, she figured that if she was going to keep with the story of becoming a police officer, she might as well try to be pretty damn convincing about it.

“I mean, I’ve never shot a gun before, and I don’t really know a whole lot about the technicalities of different laws in different areas, but I mean, the class is there to teach us,” Nicole almost kicked herself as the words just rambled out of her mouth, as if everything logical that she had been thinking of to say got distorted somewhere along the pathway between her brain and her mouth, so they only came out making her sound less and less like she had a single clue about anything she was saying.

“And hey, it’s not like most cops actually know the laws anyway,” _God_ , what was _wrong_ with her? Why was it that she suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak, and apparently how law enforcement functioned in modern society. Why didn’t she just say writing? Even if she wasn’t entirely sure about that one either, at least that one would have been easier to ramble mindless facts about, ones that would at least make a little more sense than this.  
Luckily for her, Waverly seemed to find a bit of humor in what really wasn’t meant to be irony, but somehow turned out to be in the end anyway, and the smaller woman let out a small chuckle.

“Do you know anyone else in the police force?” Waverly was asking more? Why was she asking more? Why was she suddenly so curious about criminology? _Nicole_  wasn’t even that interested, and she was the one who mentioned it first!

Creative writing seemed like it was much more of a fit for her anyway, but she’d just said the first thing that popped into her head. Which, whether it was a good or a bad sign, happened to be a section of her essay where she discussed gun safety laws and problems in the police force that she wished she could change. Maybe she thought about it for a reason. If she actually stuck with criminology she could find it to be intense and possibly enjoyable at the same time. After all, this was her chance to discover who she was, and what better way than to thrust herself head first into the bottomless pit? Why should she even be worried?

Nicole wasn’t worried. She was terrified, to be completely honest. So, in an attempt to change the subject, she pressed for more information about Waverly’s selection.

“Nuh uh, my turn to ask a question this time,” she shook her head and thought for a moment, thinking of something to ask about a biology degree. “Any particular reason you chose marine biology? I mean, do you have any personal connections to it?” Well, it certainly wasn’t original or bold, but it was something.

The question made the brunette have to think for a moment. Why was she going into marine biology? It seemed like it had always been the plan she had from the start. She’d never really considered the logic behind it, just that she knew she loved the ocean (despite never having been to one before) and she’d always excelled in her biology classes. She’d developed a passion for marine life, specifically sharks not long after she’d been exposed to Shark Week for the first time in her life on the discovery channel as a kid. Maybe it was just her fascination with something she’d never personally gotten to experience, but she doubted that was the sole reason for her passion in the subject.

“The ocean interests me, I suppose is the main reason. It’s this whole vast area of our world, more expansive than all the land above sea level, and we know hardly anything about it. We know more about space than our own oceans. There’s so much we have to discover, so much to learn and experience beneath the surface,” she finally decided on her answer, staring down at her comforter pensively. “I’ve never seen it, but I’ve dreamt of it before.” At this, Nicole suddenly sat up and stared at her with wide eyes.

“You’ve _never_ been to the ocean?” the redhead seemed appalled, and Waverly shook her head tentatively in response. “That’s... We have to go!”

“Go? Like, as in right now, _go_?” the shorter woman looked over at her roommate like she’d sprouted another head. “Are you crazy? We can’t just get up and go to the ocean!”

“Why not? It’s only an hour away, I can drive and we’ll be back before you know it. It won’t even be 10:00 when we get back, and it’ll be great! The ocean at night is _gorgeous_ , and you _have_ to see the ocean at least once before you’re an official college student,” Nicole jumped up and grabbed a sweatshirt, pulling it over her head and slipping on her tennis shoes.

“Nicole I can’t. I... I can’t just get up and do things like that, especially not on a night like tonight. Besides, we have classes that begin tomorrow, and studies show that over 60% of people under the age of 50 don’t get enough sleep to maintain proper bodily function, and of that 60% nearly all of them are students in high school and college,” Waverly knew that she was just trying to find an excuse to not go by spewing off a random fact, but she didn’t have another choice, and she truly did have sleeping problems, ever since she was a kid. She’d been through sleep studies and had gone under examinations by an array of doctors, but no one could ever offer an explanation as to why she slept so poorly through the night. She knew that if she wasn’t in bed around 9:00 or so, she’d remain awake and alert throughout the night, then suffer through waves of periodic exhaustion throughout the next day.

Besides, nothing in her plan said it was okay to jump in a practical stranger’s car at dusk and drive out an hour just to see the ocean, especially when it could cause sleep deprivation and prevent her from being in full focus the next day. She stepped back, shaking her head quickly to further confirm it. The athlete’s face went from excited to disappointed, and she watched the shorter brunette carefully, treading lightly with her words.

“W-Well then... Then we can go some other time then! Sometime when it’s not the night before college, uh... Maybe this weekend! We wouldn’t even have to bring anything, we could just-” Nicole started, but was quickly interrupted and cut off by her roommate.

“Nicole, I appreciate you trying to do something nice for me, I really do, but I can’t think about anything like that right now. I don’t have the luxury of just going with the flow throughout my life. It’s just not who I am. I can’t just get up and do something impulsive. I can’t just decide to do something on a whim. I have to calculate the possibilities and the results of everything I do,” Nicole opened her mouth in an attempt to get in a few words, but Waverly continued before she got the opportunity and she was left sitting with slightly parted lips as the brunette proceeded with her rant.

“Maybe you can, but I can’t go through life not knowing what’s going to happen next. I _nend_  to know that everything is going to follow a path, that it’s going to have structure and organization behind it. I need instructions, because when you leave things up to fate nothing ever goes the way it should. Stupid people make stupid mistakes and they ruin everything because they were just acting out of impulse, and then everything is ruined and you can’t change any of it once it happens and you just...” Waverly suddenly cut off and found herself unable to speak any longer, her lips quivering and her head spinning.

“I’m sorry, just.. There’s a lot you don’t know about me Nicole, and until we reach a point where you _can_  know, it’s just not going to make sense to you. I have to have something to hold on to. I wish I could be like you, happy to go along with whatever life throws in the way, but for me that’s not possible. It’s just not who I am,” the brunette’s shoulders sagged slightly and her gaze slowly began to fixate on a colored spot on the rug, just a few shades of blue lighter than the surrounding areas.

Nicole stepped towards her, concern evident in her gaze, but the brunette held up a hand to stop her from continuing in her approach. The ginger didn’t press any further and immediately began backing away from the smaller woman, not wanting to overstep her boundaries or to disrespect her unspoken request for some space.

Still, she couldn’t help the frown on her lips as she watched Waverly shiver and crawl into her bed, burying her face in her pillow. The athlete stood motionless for a few moments, unable to form a completely coherent thought from the messy piles of word vomit brewing in her head. Looking up at the decorations covering the wall on her side of the room, she took a few moments to let herself ease her bubbling emotions.

Neither of the two went to sleep right away- Waverly continued reading for awhile longer and Nicole focused on finishing up some last-minute adjustments, making necessary or desired alternations quickly as they came. By the time she was finished, her clothes were stored and any personal belongings she’d felt were important to bring were stored somewhere safe in their own area, either on her desk or stashed in a bin under her bed. She cast a look over at her roommate as she finished, but the brunette didn’t take her eyes off the pages, whether she recognized she was being watched or not.

They’d just met, but Nicole could tell that there was something she liked about Waverly Earp, something that she didn’t really understand at the time. The concern she had over her new roommate, the curiosity already sitting in about her past and her experiences through life, the sense of unease she felt twisting knots in her stomach at the sight of seeing Waverly cry- All of them felt much too complex to have developed already.

Maybe she was just tired as well. Tired from a day of exploring, tired from a month of procrastination in filling out her college application forms, tired from a past few years- A life, really, if she wanted to be completely honest- Of living without purpose, existing but never truly surviving. Whatever the reason, granted there was one at all, it didn’t remain on Nicole’s mind for very long, because soon her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the dorm. Was Waverly just as exhausted from the stress of college and life as she was? She had “the plan” to follow, whatever that truly meant for her, but ultimately Nicole knew two things wrong with her roommate’s logic.

One, she knew first hand that plans never worked out the way they were intended to, at least not for her own life. To her, it felt pointless to try to schedule for the future and try to conceive a guide to follow for a path that had yet to be written.

And two, Nicole also knew that plans created limits, created boundaries, created an atmosphere of which developed limits and expectations that- When unsuccessful in being reached- Would hang above the head in a taunt, mocking those who had not the strength, the empowerment, or the bravery to continue on if they knew they couldn’t ever surpass the bar they set themselves at.

Standing and carefully approaching Waverly so as to hopefully leave her sleep undeserved, she reached down and gently pried the novel in the brunette’s hands away and set it on the corner of her desk, folding the neatly kept pages back together after marking the page with the built in ribbon to act as a placeholder. The ginger athlete couldn’t help stealing a curious glance down at the book- Pride and Prejudice: Jane Austin.

Nicole had never read the book for herself, but she’d heard of it plenty of times before in her senior AP English class. The focus had been on the feminist elements of the novel, and though they had never directly discussed the plot in detail or depth, the feminist unit of that class had been what inspired her to write her scholarship essay. She made a mental note for herself to check the campus library and see if they had a copy. If it was enough to keep Waverly’s attention so easily, surely it had to be worth reading.

And then it hit her- She had just made plans to do something.

Pausing at the revelation as it dawned on her, the redhead couldn’t help that the corners of her lips turned up into a smile, and she shook her head with a bemused sigh. After putting the book away, the athlete reached over and turned the dorm’s lights off, watching as they flickered once before fading to black. The only illumination left were a few streams of moonlight that had managed to penetrate the thick curtains over the windows. She glanced over at Waverly’s sleeping form and retreated to her own bed, pulling the covers back and sliding in underneath. It didn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, but until it did her mind buzzed with thoughts going by so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to really ponder any of them- Except for a single lone thought that was beginning to form in the back of her mind.

Maybe, if it had anything to do with Waverly Earp, being a planner wouldn’t be _terrible_. But even if it took her to her grave, she would continue defend her belief, because plans were still for picnics, not people.


End file.
